


Old Wounds

by ChillsofFire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mentioned nudity, teeny tiny bit of angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:05:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9424601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillsofFire/pseuds/ChillsofFire
Summary: Blue eyes returned to the scarred torso. A single finger traced over a long pale scar across his ribs. “Will you tell me their stories?”Kenny hummed in his chest, “One day, if you want me to.”'One day' turns out to mean 'tomorrow'.(This is technically a sequel to "Distraction", but can be read on its own.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Italiano available: [Old wounds-Italian Translation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029014) by [Manudb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manudb/pseuds/Manudb)



> Kenny/Uri will be the death of me I swear to God.
> 
> I've started rereading Attack on Titan because the last few chapters have left me absolutely mystified. Then I reread my first KenUri fic and this happened.
> 
> The Mature rating might actually be a bit much, but I'm horrible at deciding that sort of thing so...
> 
> Enjoy!

Muted sunlight slowly began to light up the room. It brightened the pale blue drapes that covered the window, spilled across the polished hard wood floors, and crept its way onto the bed. Pale skin, smooth and without blemish, began to warm under its touch.

Uri opened his eyes slowly. He didn’t move, letting himself wake up little by little as he watched the sun filter through his window.

The long coat he had been wrapped it was gone. A lazy glance at the floor told him where it had disappeared to. It almost seemed to glow in the light, the brilliant white of it reflecting the bit of sun that managed to reach it.

He stared at it for a moment, relaxed under the blanket that sat across the small of his back. A tiny shift, his leg stretching out slowly, reminded him that, underneath the blanket, he was nude.

A soft smile crossed his face.

Slowly, moving quietly so as not to disturb the bed, Uri adjusted himself, moving his arms out from under the pillow so that he could cradle his head, which he turned away from the window so he could see what lay to his left.

Kenny was on his stomach as well, his head turned to face away from Uri and the window. One hand was tucked under his own pillow, and Uri was willing to bet that it was curled around the handle of his knife; ready to attack anyone who tried to enter the room. Uri watched him for a moment, curious to see if his guard was really asleep. He knew that Kenny had trouble with it, staying up too late and waking too early to be healthy. But, for now at least, he appeared to be deep in his slumber, his breath coming in a slow rhythm that soothed Uri the longer he listened to it.

He let his eyes roam over the still form, moving down muscled shoulders, taking in every mark and scar as his gaze moved lower, over hips that were partially covered by their shared blanket, and eventually sweeping over the slight curve of Kenny’s backside beneath the soft cotton covering. Uri’s gaze moved back up, stopping at the light pink lines that marked Kenny’s back and shoulders. His gentle smile took a hint of sadness as he thought of the marks he knew were gone by now. The power of the titans was useful in many ways, but it left him unable to enjoy some of life’s smaller joys. Like the marks of passion left by a lover.

Pushing the thought aside, Uri turned his attention to the rest of the scars that gave character to Kenny’s skin. He remembered how they had felt beneath his palms the night before, how Kenny had watched as Uri attempted to commit each line and bump to memory, tracing the marks again and again with gentle fingers. Each one held a story, each held a secret about the man Uri had grown to trust. He wanted to know each and every one. He wanted to hear every story Kenny had to tell.

_You’re beautiful._ Kenny had told him.

But Kenny was the beautiful one. A living portrait of life, and all the darkness it entailed; the opposite of him in every way. Tall, dark, unfiltered and unbridled, with rough edges and marred skin, born from the lowest part of humanity, spirit hard from fighting and death and desperation. Pain, struggle, and loss were captured in every jagged, ropey scar; hands left rough and calloused from hard work, so different from his own soft palms.

Uri looked down thoughtfully, his eyes aimed at the soft crease of the sheets beneath their bodies.

Perhaps Kenny was only half of life’s portrait, and Uri himself was the missing piece; the small, fair, controlled and mannered man who had been able, for a while, to walk simply through life, hands clean and flesh left untouched. Two sides to the same coin. Two halves of a whole.

Uri shifted again, pushing himself up slightly so that he could move closer to Kenny’s sleeping form. He settled on his side, his left hand moving so he could brush his fingers along Kenny’s spine. His skin was warm, and he did not stir at the touch. Fingers drifted farther up, tracing the edge of one shoulder blade, brushing lightly over a thin white scar.

Kenny moved, inhaling deeper than he had before, his arms clenching up and under the pillow as if he were stretching. Uri stayed still, waiting, his fingers still pressing gently against Kenny’s shoulder. He could feel the muscle shifting beneath the skin, tensing and relaxing as Kenny resettled. The power in them was obvious, the strength undeniable.

Uri wondered if this was what it felt like to pet a panther.

The room was silent as Kenny went still again. Uri smiled to himself, enjoying the rare moment of peace. He stroked over the scar again before letting his fingers wander, mapping out more of the aged wounds.

“It’s dangerous to wake up an armed man…” Kenny’s voice was roughed from sleep, sounding deeper than normal. He didn’t move from his position.

“I trusted you to know I wasn’t a threat,” Uri murmured, fingers coming to a stop. His smile softened, “You stayed…”

Kenny shifted, turning his head to face Uri. Stormy gray eyes peered up, “You asked me to.”

Uri’s fingers swept over his back again, drawing nonsense patterns, “Did you sleep well?”

Kenny hummed an affirmative and closed his eyes again, enjoying the gentle touch, “Enjoying yourself?”

Uri nodded silently, watching his face, drinking in the calm, relaxed expression that he so rarely saw. After a moment of still quiet, Kenny cracked one eye open again, meeting Uri’s gaze. Uri did not look away, though his hand stilled again, his fingers resting over a slightly raised scar just above Kenny’s hip.

Something must have flashed in his eyes; sorrow, guilt, something heavy and dark that Kenny didn’t like. Without a word, Kenny rolled over, adjusting himself comfortably on his back before holding his arm out in silent invitation. Uri didn’t hesitate to move under it, pressing against Kenny’s side and lying his head against his shoulder.

“Wasn’t your fault.” Kenny wrapped his arm around him, his hand coming to rest on Uri’s hip.

“My family gave the order…”

“You stopped it.” A calloused thumb rubbed slowly over pale skin, “Let it go.”

Uri said nothing, only listened to the sound of Kenny’s breathing, the soft echoes of his heartbeat. Kenny didn’t want him to feel guilty, and he had no reason to _be_ guilty. Not for this, anyway. Even so, Uri could not help the way the dark emotion curled in his gut, just as it had the night before. Kenny had tried to stop it then too.

“Last night…” Uri trailed off, not sure what exactly he wanted to say.

“What about it?” Kenny did not flinch; his thumb continued to rub in small circles.

It took a moment for Uri to organize his thoughts. What did he want to say? What did he want to ask? A name had been given to last night; easily provided by Kenny. But Uri wasn’t sure he agreed with it. Not now.

He tilted his head, looking up to Kenny’s face, “What if I don’t want it to have been just a distraction?”

Kenny looked down at him. His thumb paused. “Last night, that’s all it was.” He looked back up, “Doesn’t mean it can’t lead to somethin’ more.”

Uri blinked. Kenny did not look back down, but his arm tightened around Uri’s slim form for just a moment, and his thumb took up its soothing rhythm once more. A small, soft smile graced Uri’s lips. He looked back down, gaze traveling once more over Kenny’s chest and stomach. Deft fingers began to trace along the curves and dips of hard earned muscles. Kenny gave a content sigh, his free arm coming up to fold under his head so that Uri could continue his explorations unheeded.

The sun crept farther into the room. Uri drew more patterns against Kenny’s skin, taking in his warmth, enjoying the light sensation that came when he ran his fingers across the thin spread of hair across Kenny’s chest. He traced the edges of his lover’s hips, brushing through the matching trail of curls that peeked out from the blanket as he went from one to the other.

When he paused, Kenny held his breath. Uri did not draw his fingers away from the rounded, depressed scar that sat above Kenny’s right hip. He remembered looking at it the night before, trying to guess where it had come from. Now he wondered if it was a bad idea to ask.

“Military police,” Kenny murmured, taking the choice out of Uri’s hands, “I got careless. They got a lucky shot.”

Uri didn’t need to ask what he was doing that would warrant him getting shot at.

Slowly, Uri moved his fingers away from the pitted bullet scar, moving up and over just slightly, until he brushed over a thin scar he could just barely see the end of from where he lay. Long, smooth, and pale, Uri remembered pressing his lips against it in his dimly light office.

“Bar fight,” Kenny spoke quietly, his words only for Uri to hear, “a drunk with a knife and a lot of rage.”

Here, Uri lingered, tracing over the long healed wound until he felt he could identify it in total darkness. Kenny didn’t seem to mind, if his slow and easy breathing was anything to go by. His heart beat made a relaxing rhythm in Uri’s ear; strong and steady.

They continued their new game. Uri remained silent and still, save for the movement of his hand as searched out each mark and listened as Kenny told their stories.

Stabs, from men he had beaten and robbed to survive.

Cuts, from those who had attempted to take advantage of him.

Gunshots, from military men and those able to afford a gun, and the bullets to keep them loaded.

Here, Uri moved. He sat up on his elbow, moving his leg up and over Kenny’s thighs until he could sit straddling them, the heat from their bodies mingling together where their bare skin touched.

Kenny paused briefly, unsure if he should finish his tale of raiding the small camp of military police who had settled near the entrance to the underground in a show of intimidation, daring the rats from below to crawl to the surface. But Uri quietly urged him to continue, his slender fingers going back to tracing along the scars.

When Kenny finished, Uri bent down and pressed a slow and gentle kiss against the bullet wound.

Fingers trailed away from Kenny’s torso, up his shoulders and down his left arm, which still lay flat on the bed were Uri had been. When Uri tugged, silently asking for the arm to move, Kenny obliged him, letting his arm be drawn up to be cradled in Uri’s arms.

Slices from broken glass and bottles, earned during nights of drunken rage.

An old burn from an oil lamp.

A cut from a rock, earned years ago when Kenny had tripped while exploring a cave with his sister.

Small nicks on the inside of his fingers, where the blade he had used to play a game with his grandfather had stuck him.

Uri found them all, trading one arm for the other as Kenny spoke, cradling each in his arms as he lightly touched and traced every inch of Kenny’s skin. After each tale, his lips followed his fingers, tenderly brushing over the marred flesh, accepting each part of Kenny, the rough and dangerous man from the Underground, with a kiss.

“Satisfied?” Kenny asked when the last scar had been discovered. He hadn’t moved much during the process, and continued to lay still now, his eyes watching Uri closely.

“For now,” Uri let his fingers glide up and down Kenny’s arm, absentmindedly tracing the faint lines of his veins. Kenny shifted his arm, reaching up so he could cup the side of Uri’s face. Uri did not hesitate to press his hand against the back of Kenny’s, closing his eyes and turning his face into the touch.

“You’re a strange man, Uri…” Kenny murmured.

A small smile tugged at Uri’s mouth, “You’re the one who stayed with me…”

It was Kenny’s turn to smile. One side of his mouth twitched upward as he let out a small snort of amusement. “I did.”

Uri pressed a kiss against the inside of his palm before moving once more, this time to lie down on top of Kenny, his ear pressed over his chest. Kenny pulled the blanket back up from where it had slipped to cover their bodies again before letting his arm drape across Uri’s back.

They fell into a comfortable silence once more, neither one willing to move and break the peaceful spell. Uri didn’t want it to end. He hadn’t wanted last night to end. Then, just as now, he felt like himself again. He felt as if he could almost forget the powers he had, the horrible memories and dark truths he had been given and could never share.

And though it was selfish, though he knew he had a job to do, work to finish, Uri didn’t want to let Kenny go.

Because when Kenny was with him, he felt safe. He felt whole.

When Kenny was with him, the voices of the past were silent.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Endings are hard.


End file.
